Mia's Super Sweet Sixteen
by SapeloSweetie
Summary: Mia is being followed around by a camera crew as Grandmere plots every detail for her birthday party. Can Mia handle the stress?
1. Chapter One

**A/N: So, I was watching re-runs of My Super Sweet Sixteen on MTV (I can totally see how people can watch this show, but I fully agree with Meg), and I thought, "what would Mia do if she had cameras following her as she planned her sixteenth birthday party?" So, hopefully this is interesting for ya'll. It gives me something to do while I am waiting for all of my favorite stories to be updated and I don't have any essays to write for English. Please read and review and I'll love you forever.**

_April 21, The loft_

I just came from Princess Lessons where I was informed by Grandmere that she had "wonderful news". Usually when Grandmere says something is wonderful, I should run. Screaming. As fast as I possibly can.

I immediately suspected this had something to do with my birthday. I mean, a girl only turns 16 once. I kind of thought she had hidden Paolo somewhere and was waiting to attack me with his combs and shears.

I was right about the party, but wrong about Paolo, at least, so far. She has informed me that Mtv has approached her about a documentary about my birthday party. In fact, they wanted to feature my birthday on Super Sweet Sixteen. I've seen that show, and the only people I know that would willingly expose themselves on such a program are people like Lana. And Josh.

When I told Grandmere that I absolutely refused to participate in anything of the sort, she snorted and replied, "Amelia, really. You must stop being so melodramatic. It is the perfect way to show the people of Genovia that you are ready to ascend the throne."

Umm, excuse me, but I seriously doubt the citizens of Genovia expect me to become the Queen anytime soon. I mean, do they even get Mtv?

When I asked Grandmere this, she just ignored me and shook her empty glass to signal Margot that she was ready for another Sidecar.

I wouldn't be surprised if she bought every citizen in Genovia a satellite dish just so everyone could watch my international television debut.

I folded my arms across my nonexistent chest and stared at Grandmere. "I don't want camera crews following my every move anywhere!"

"Pfuit! Don't be ridiculous. I've already spoken to your father and he quite agrees with me." She chuckled evilly. "You are dismissed."

So, with a toss of her hand, the discussion was closed. Well, that's what she thinks. I haven't told my mom yet, and I think she will have something to say about it.

_Later…Lilly's_

I talked to my mom. She said that she agrees with Grandmere! I can't believe it. She thinks that it might be good for my self esteem and give me some exposure to the real world.

When I told Lilly about the tv thing, her face lit up.

"You mean real live camera crews are going to follow you around? Are you serious?"

"Lilly! You are totally missing the point!"

She just looked at me blankly and shrugged her shoulders.

I got up and headed to Michael's room. Ever since he started at Columbia, I only get to see him after school on Tuesdays and Fridays, and the weekends.

He wasn't home yet, but I didn't think he would mind if I hung out in his room until he got here. I wasn't doing anything wrong. No matter how much I was tempted to sneak a peek in his bedside stand, it would be wrong. Relationships are about trust, and if I were to break that trust, what kind of relationship would that be?

I'm not going to look at it though. Even if I knew that my birthday present was in there, I wouldn't look.

Hmmm…I looked around for other things to occupy my time, but Michael has taken his laptop to his dorm, so I can't exactly play Solitaire.

The edge of his dresser is calling out to me. I think I will just have one tiny peek…

Uh-Oh, BUSTED!

I was about halfway across the room, when the door opened, and Michael strode in.

"Mia!" He looked pretty surprised to see me in his room unattended.

"I didn't touch anything!"

Damn. Way to go Mia. Not only have I not properly greeted my boyfriend, but I also pretty much gave my self away.

He looked around with that amused look of his and said, "ooo-kay."

I told Michael all about Grandmere's evil plot to expose all of my shortcomings on national television. He seemed sympathetic, until "but just think of all the good publicity that could come out of this."

Okay. My mom, I can sort of understand, she would want me to have an opportunity to boost my flagging level of self-esteem, Lilly I can understand, she does have a borderline unhealthy obsession with the media in all its forms. But MICHAEL? He is supposed to be my soul mate and back me up on these types of things. You know, play the Thelma to my Louise, well maybe that wasn't such a good example, I wouldn't be pushed to the edge and finally snap, driving my car over a cliff, but the point is…They stuck together. I don't think Thelma would agree with it one bit if Louise told her that she was being suckered into appearing on national television to be made a fool of.

When I told Michael this, he just kind of grinned and said, "Okay, so we boycott the Mtv thing."

That's more like it.

10 Days till my birthday!


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: I forgot to mention that Mia may be a little OOC. She will act a little more aggressive than the Mia from the books. I also forgot to add my disclaimer. So, for those of you who don't know, (where have you been hiding?) Meg Cabot owns all rights to the Princess Diaries, Mtv owns the rights to My Super Sweet Sixteen, and I own Paulette, Yvette, Carlos, Lori, and the desperate cameraman. R/R please!**

_April 22, The loft_

When I woke up this morning, my mother was standing over me, trying to shake me awake.

"Mia," she hissed, "they're here!"

The way she said "they" made me immediately think Mawmaw from Indiana was here to visit.

"They?"

"Yes Mia, the camera crews from Mtv are downstairs right now, setting up their sound and lighting equipment."

I thought my mom was joking and almost rolled over and went back to sleep, when I remembered.

GRANDMERE.

She called them anyway and invited them to set up shop in my home. I pulled the pillow over my face and let out a scream.

"Do I even have time to attempt at applying makeup?"

"Oh, honey, I don't think you have to worry about that. You should see the army of stylists they brought with them."

HA! Even Mtv thinks it takes an army to make me look good in front of the camera, and they don't even know me!

"Mia, you might want to get down there. I think Fat Louie has one of the crew stuck in a corner."

Oh crap.

_Later…_

Okay, I have been poked, prodded and tweezed to within an inch of my life. I don't even think Paolo subjected me to this much torture. Obviously he still has much to learn.

As soon as I stumbled downstairs, a woman wearing a Britney Spears concert shirt rushed toward me, clip board in hand and began barking out instructions to everyone.

"Your highness, my name is Paulette; I'm the crew manager for this segment of My Super Sweet Sixteen."

"Hello."

She rushed on, simpering, "It is such an honor to be able to meet you in person. I'm not usually star struck, you know, working with them almost daily, but you… you're special."

I'm not sure if I should have been wary of her compliments, but I thanked her, blushing furiously.

Paulette clapped her hands. "Okay people, as you can see, we have a lot of work to do, Yvette, Carlos, I believe the Princess is ready for you."

She guided me to a chair that had been covered in some kind of cushion, and plunked me down in front of a mirror.

"Now, Princess," she began, "your Grandmother stipulated as part of the contract that you look presentable for the camera at all times."

"Umm, okay."

"So, let me just introduce you to our hair and makeup people." She went around the room, pointing out various team members. "That is Yvette, she will be doing your hair, Carlos will be makeup, Lori will do your manicure, and I believe you already know Paolo, he will be over seeing everything, as he knows what the Dowager Princess likes."

I looked over at my mom, and mouthed "Help!"

She was holding Rocky and trying to fend off one of the cameraman's advances. I saw her hold up her left hand, with her tiny little wedding band on it. She looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

Just then, Yvette began pulling on my hair, trying to untangle the mass of knots I had accumulated over the night.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," she mumbled under her breath. Paolo rushed over and counseled Yvette on how to manage the unruly mane sitting on my head.

"You must grab the roots, like thees."

I stifled a giggle and motioned for Paulette. She rushed over to me, and I asked her what I had been dying to ask her since I woke up.

"Can I get something to eat? Maybe a bagel?"

She tsked and then proceeded to tell me that if I ate before they began filming, I would blow up like a helium balloon.

She drifted away and Yvette, who had finally managed to untangle my hair, began applying a bleach solution to my strands, covering them with squares of aluminum foil. When she stepped back, I took a hard look in the mirror. I looked like a freaking television receiver!

I didn't have long to reflect on my appearance however, because then Carlos came after me with the Tweezerman. He plucked what felt like was my entire eyebrow and then repeated the process on the other side. When he was done, he slathered some green goop all over my face and left me to marinate.

After about thirty minutes, Yvette came back and guided me to the kitchen sink. She made me hunch over the counter so she could rinse the dye out of my hair. All of the foil squares came off with it and water began filling the sink as it was stopped up with the metal. Yvette swore and then glanced around the room. "How bout that just being our little secret?"

"Sure."

When Yvette had shampooed and conditioned my hair, she roughly toweled it dry and led me across the room.

The goop on my face had dried onto my skin, pulling it taut across my cheekbones. Carlos rushed over and peeled the masque off in one fluid motion.

"Wow." Was all I could manage. My skin felt so revitalized.

"It's a secret family weapon." He smirked.

At the mention of the word weapon, Lars poked his head in the room. With all of the commotion going on, I hadn't even given Lars a thought. I motioned wildly for him to cross the room. When he was directly in front of me, I pulled him in closer and begged him to go to the kitchen and get me a bagel. He obliged, and moments later came back with a piping hot bagel.

"Thank you so much!"

I was just about to take a huge bite, when Paulette swooped down and snatched the bread out of my hand. "Now Princess," she berated, "we wouldn't want to gain an instant ten pounds would we? Plus, you know all those carbs are bad for you."

I was getting fed up and was ready to snatch the bagel back out of Paulette's talons and then tell Paulette where to stuff her carbs when the door opened and Grandmere sailed in. A hush fell over the room, except for Paulette, who was gushing to anyone who would listen about how "absolutely thrilled" she was to be working with us.

When Grandmere strode to my chair, toting an ever quivering Rommell, my stomach let out a horrific growl.

"Amelia, what was that vulgar noise?"

"Paulette wouldn't let me eat breakfast."

She raised one of her razor thin eyebrows and looked around the room.

"Ahh, Your Majesty, I was just telling Amelia here how eating before a shoot was scheduled to begin would immediately make her bloated for the cameras."

"Ahh, how long before you begin?"

Paulette checked her clipboard and replied, "We will be ready to begin as soon as Carlos has completed his first stage of makeup."

Grandmere looked over at me, where Carlos had begun applying a thin coat of foundation. Yvette was blowing my hair out with a large round brush and was nearly finished. I shot a pleading look toward Grandmere, but she just raised her eyebrows again and turned to speak to Paulette in hushed tones.

Yvette smoothed something on the top layer of my hair and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Carlos was busy brushing something onto my eyelids and Paulette glanced back at me.

Great. Now the bagel Nazi and Grandmere are in cahoots. I thought Grandmere might have taken mercy on me, being the sole heir to the throne and her granddaughter and everything, but that flew out the window when Paulette began clapping again.

"Alright people, we will be ready to begin in five. Lori, get your stuff together. I want a shot of you fixing the Princess' nails while Carlos completes the makeup."

I glanced over and saw Lori sitting in a makeup chair having her lipgloss applied. She stood up and grabbed her nail kit. She opened it up to reveal about a hundred tiny surfboards and some glue.

"Now, Amelia," Paulette began.

"My name is MIA." I hissed.

Paulette stared at me blankly for a moment before collecting her thoughts and continuing.

"We will be filming Lori giving you a manicure. What I would like to have you do is chat with her like you normally would."

"But I don't even know her. How am I…"

Paulette waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss my comments.

"Surely this is something you are used to. Now, just act normal, try to loosen up while Lori paints your nails. Maybe you could talk to her about what you want your party to be like."

Lori rolled her eyes when Paulette turned her back. "Don't worry about her. She's been on a sugar and flour free diet for about ten months, she's just a little wound up."

"Is she always like this?"

"Mmm, most of the time. You just have to show her that you aren't just a bubble head with Daddy's credit card. You should see some of the head cases we follow around for this show."

Lori popped her gum loudly, shaking a bottle of OPI. "So, Mia. What color do you like?"

I inspected her wide range of colors and finally settled for a soft baby pink called Coney Island Cotton Candy. She began buffing my nails and I didn't even realize the cameras were rolling until Lori kicked me under the table. She jerked her head in the direction of the cameraman, who had parked himself at the table, and begun filming.

"Okay, now, Mia, the most important thing for this documentary to work is for you to act like we are not even here. Just carry on as usual, and don't be nervous."

The bagel Nazi had returned.

_Still April 22, Much, much later, the loft_

I am finally free!

The film crew followed me around all day, but luckily for me, they are taking a break until tomorrow afternoon. I really don't know how Nick and Jessica manage. I would die if I had a camera in my face all the time.

Lilly stopped by earlier this afternoon, but she had to leave after a few minutes because she was running an errand for Mya.

I haven't gotten to see Michael yet today. I wonder what he got me for my birthday. Not that presents are important or anything, but he just gives all of my gifts so much thought, I can't wait to see what I'm getting.

I am so exhausted; I can barely hold the pen up to write, so I think I am going to bed.

Nine days till my birthday!


	3. Chapter Three

**_A/N:_ I am floating on a cloud right now because I just found out I made an A on my first college essay. I am very grateful for all of the nice reviews, and just a little grateful for the not so nice one. However, since this person did take the time to push that button and review for me (even though they must have been in a rush, not being able to take the time to spell out "was" correctly), so thanks. Things get twisted in this chapter, so I hope you guys like it, and review to tell me what you think about it!**

_April 23, The Plaza Hotel_

Today is Sunday, and I should be free to just wander around aimlessly like any normal teenage girl. Alas, I am not the average teenage girl, so instead of getting to sleep in, I was forced to awaken at what seemed to be the crack of dawn to discuss "the plan".

Yes, the plan. The Plan is what Paulette refers to as my "wonderful and unique thoughts on what my party should be like." Now, this would be cool if I was actually planning the party myself. But I'm not. Grandmere is.

So, I rolled myself out of bed, threw on a pair of much worn jeans and my absolute favorite t-shirt, and headed out the door.

When I got to Grandmere's suite, she narrowed her eyes at my attire, but since we had been graced by the company of Paulette and what appeared to be her assistant, she didn't say a word. I smiled gracefully at Paulette as I picked up a chocolate chip cookie and took a bite. Of course I wasn't being catty and rubbing it in her face that I was eating sugar for breakfast, I was just being polite. Okay, so maybe that was a little uncalled for, but after going almost an entire day yesterday with no food, I deserve a few carbohydrates.

Paulette introduced us to her assistant, Julia. Julia was in charge of the clipboard today, I noted.

"So, your highness, what type of plans would you like to see carried out for your party?"

Hmm. I hadn't really given much thought to the situation, and was about to say so, when Grandmere piped up.

"We were thinking something along the lines of classy and chic."

Um, WE? Up until today, I haven't been consulted about anything.

Paulette and Julia just nodded their heads and Julia jotted something down on her notepad. I just couldn't resist. I had to butt in. I know I might suffer later, but there is nothing Grandmere could do to me in front of others. Her reputation might become tarnished.

"ACTUALLY, ladies, I was thinking more along the lines of young, hip, and fresh. We could have a band."

Paulette looked confused, not sure whose directions she should accept, and Grandmere looked, excuse the expression, royally pissed.

"Really, what did you have in mind Amelia?"

I really didn't like the tone she was using, but I continued nevertheless.

"We could invite all my friends from school, and just have fun."

Paulette rolled her eyes slightly because she thought I wasn't looking.

"Your highness, I realize this is your party, but that would not interest our main demographic. Many of the people that watch this show do so for a vicarious experience. It needs to be not just fun, but exciting and original. We've brought some tapes along with us, just to get the ideas flowing."

She snapped (yes, snapped) her fingers and Julia hurried to the television and popped a tape in the VCR. So for the past two hours or so, I have been forced to watch reruns of My Super Sweet Sixteen, while Grandmere sat and had her manicure retouched.

After seeing the Hart episode (you know, the guy with the dancers and the free designer shirts), I nearly snapped, and announced I was ready to begin the plans.

"I was thinking, we could stage a Backstreet Boys reunion, maybe book Britney and her backup dancer Kevin, invite Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie, and ask them to bring some friends."

I was kidding of course, but Paulette's face lit up as she contemplated my idea.

"Julia, write that down. Hmm, let me make a few calls, and I'll get back to you."

Paulette and Julia rose to leave, and I jumped up with them. I figured I might want to get a head start before Grandmere's nails dried.

"I'll walk you guys out; I was just on my way to see a friend."

_Still the 23rd, at Lilly's_

I'm in the living room at Casa Moscovitz, where Lilly and I are discussing the mental state of Grandmere.

"She didn't say anything? I mean, she just let you do all the planning?"

Lilly was, understandably, surprised and in a state of disbelief.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll pull the plug on this, can you imagine her going through with something that wasn't totally her idea?"

Lilly shrugged her shoulders and said, "So, we know you don't want to do this whole tv thing for your birthday, but what DO you want to do?"

"I don't know, I kinda thought this year would be like all the others."

My cell phone rang, and I looked at the caller ID. Unknown name, unknown number. Still, if they have this number, it's probably someone important. Maybe Michael is calling me from somewhere downtown. I pressed the call button and answered.

"Hello?"

"Princess Mia?"

"This is she." Who is this? Oh, God, please don't let someone have hacked into my cell phone and displayed all my numbers on the internet.

"This is Paulette." Oh.

"How did you get this number?" Really, how DID she get this number? The only people that have it are Dad, Michael, Mom, and oh yeah, GRANDMERE.

"The Dowager Princess wrote it down for me in case we needed to contact you about the show. Listen, Mia, we talked it over, and we think the party is totally doable. We may have to make a few changes, here and there, but otherwise, it's perfect."

Okay, next time I make a suggestion that Brian, Howie, AJ, Kevin, and Nick serenade us, while listening to Britney talk about her dogs, someone please shoot me. Really.

Paulette continued. "So, we are just about to head to a location, and we would like you to join us, so we can get some more footage of you before the party."

Ooh, goody.

I confirmed the address with Paulette, and disconnected the line before she could say anything else. When I told Lilly I had to go, she rolled her eyes and waved goodbye.

"Tell Michael I came by, will you?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

"Thanks."

I am riding in the limo writing this, and I just realized I haven't eaten anything since that cookie this morning. Well, maybe when I get there, we'll be close to a pretzel stall or something.

_Later…The loft_

I couldn't believe my eyes when I got out of the limo this afternoon. We stopped in front of a huge abandoned factory, and Hansgot outto open the door for me.

"Are you sure this is it?"

Before Hans or Lars could get a word out, Paulette came rushing toward me with her arms out. I noticed she wasn't wearing her Britney concert shirt; today she was sporting a _Mrs. Timberlake_ slogan.

"Princess! I'm glad you could make it. Now listen, we don't have time to do a full makeup today, but I'm gonna have Carlos apply just a little makeup and then they can airbrush the rest at the studio."

Oh God, am I THAT hideous? I wasn't allowed to wallow in misery for very long, because I was rushed into a bathroom and plunked into a chair.

Carlos rushed over and got to work as Paulette's cell phone rang.

"Excuse me a moment, Hello?" Paulette had turned around, but I was still able to hear everything she was saying.

"Lana, I'm sorry, but I can't leave right now to bring you some frozen yogurt, I'm on location right now." A pause, and then, "Yes, honey, I realize that you are upset right now, but I'm sure he'll call you later. Look, I've got to go, but I'll call Daddy and have him drop some off on his way to work."

Lana? Surely there are thousands of Lana's in New York though.

"I'm sorry Princess, that was my daughter. Apparently her boyfriend Josh didn't call her when he promised he would. Teenagers, you know."

I just had to ask her, and I am sure I will regret asking, but I just had to know.

"I'm sorry Paulette, I blanked out for a second there, what did you say your last name was the other day?"

"Oh, it's Weinberger legally, but I still go by my maiden name, Clark. Clark just rolls off the tongue better. Actually, you might know my daughter; she goes to Albert Einstein too. She's a sophomore."

I think I visibly paled, because Carlos stopped what he was doing and looked at me questioningly.

"Really?" I squeaked out, "I have a few classes with her."

Oh God Oh God Oh God, I am at the mercy of the mother to my worst enemy. My appetite disappeared completely. I actually thought for a brief moment I was going to vomit all over Carlos' smock.

Paulette squealed in delight, "Really! How wonderful! You know, I always knew my Lana was going places, and look at her. Best friends with a Princess! Imagine that!"

Before I could correct her, she skipped off to check on something, and I was left wondering what in the hell had possessed me to ask such a question.

So, the rest of my afternoon was shot to pieces and I couldn't really focus on what was going on. I was thinking about not seeing Michael almost all weekend, and the fact that Lana's mother believed us to be the tightest of pals. I think I nodded blindly through a bunch of decisions that most likely I should have been paying attention to or putting the kibosh on.

When I finally got home, my mom had taped a note on my door asking me to call Michael at school, and that she had gone to bed early because she had an art show to attend in the morning. I raced up the stairs and threw myself on the bed, exhausted. I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed the cordless phone, punching in Michael's number.

"Hello?" a groggy voice answered. I hope I didn't wake anybody up.

"Michael?"

"No, this is Doo-Pak, he's not here right now."

My good mood deflated a little bit.

"Okay, well, can you tell him I called?"

"Yeah, sure thing Mia."

I pressed the end button and flopped back down onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. I was a little drowsy, and my eyelids were just about closed when I heard a gentle tapping at the fire escape window. I sat straight up and pulled my bathrobe tighter when Michael opened the window and tumbled in.

"Shhh, you'll wake up my mom and Rocky." I said, laughing.

"What about Mr.G?" He got up and adjusted his t-shirt, which had ridden up just enough to give me a glimpse of his abs.

"Nah, he's always a heavy sleeper. I just tried to call you, what are you doing up so late?"

He stood in front of me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His face was just a breath away from mine as he asked me, "What do you want to do for your birthday?"

He kissed me, and I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder.

"I don't know," I mumbled. "Grandmere is still making me do the Mtv thing. But I think the party will be on a Saturday, so I'll have my actual birthday free to do what I want."

"Good, cause' I've got plans for you."

He kissed my nose and released me from his embrace. Turning to the window, he looked over his shoulder and said, "Sweet dreams."

With that, he was gone, and I watched him from the window as he climbed down the stairs and walked down the street. I sighed and gathered Fat Louie up for a hug. He didn't really appreciate my display of affection, though, and wiggled in my arms until he was set free.

8 days until my birthday!


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N: I know, I know, this is super super short, but it is a very important part in the story and will hopefully grab ya'll interest for the upcoming chapters. I really need to start working on my English essay, but this is so much more entertaining! Please read and review, good, bad, indifferent, whatever, I would like some feedback from ya'll so I know if I'm doing my job correctly! )**

**P.S. Thank you Kristinmilly for pointing out a very big error in this chapter. **

_April 24th Geometry Class_

My life is officially over. I know, I have said that many, many times, but this time, I'm not sure if I will ever fully recover from the humiliation I am suffering right now. When I woke up this morning, I was still happy from being able to see Michael before I had to go back to school and to being tortured by Paulette and Grandmere.

That is, I was until I ran across the hallway to go to the sink and brush my teeth, happened to look down, and saw my mom and Mr. G hunched over the table whispering frantically. My first thought was something happened to Fat Louie, but then I remembered being awoken by him when he settled himself onto my chest. I really didn't think anything of it except hoping my mom wasn't having another child with my Geometry teacher. I still can't help but call him Mr. G at home.

Anyway, I continued my daily routine. When I turned the water on to wash my face, my mom called up to me to make sure I was up. When I walked down the stairs, they both looked up at me, and my mom ran out of the room.

"What's up with her?" I asked cautiously.

Mr. G glanced down at the paper that was spread out on the table and I followed his gaze. On the front page of the Daily Enquirer was my face, with the headline "Princess Mia's Late Night Tryst" superimposed over a blurry shot of me kissing Michael goodbye as he climbed out the window to leave. I dropped into the nearest chair and pulled the paper to me to read the story. I cut out parts of it and pasted it in here; I can't bring myself to repeat some of the trash that was written about me. I keep rereading it, hoping that it wasn't about me, but about some other minor New York celebrity.

_**Princess Mia's Secret Tryst**_

_**Local resident and Princess of Genovia, Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldo was spotted last night in a late night embrace. Sources say the mystery man was the Princess' boyfriend of over a year, Michael Moscovitz. Moscovitz, who is a sophomore at prestigious Columbia University, was caught climbing up the fire escape stairs to Princess Mia's bedroom, where sources say, he emerged over an hour later. A cameraman caught the two lovebirds sharing a kiss as he prepared to leave. Will Genovia soon see a new heir to the throne?**_

There was even a picture of me with my arms around his neck, kissing him goodbye. I can't believe this! I didn't even see a flash and what kind of freak hangs around my fire escape at midnight! And furthermore, he was only there for about ten minutes, AT THE MOST. Wait until Grandmere finds out about this, Oh God, will she side with me, her only grand-daughter and heir to the throne, or will she believe what the tabloid reporters are saying? That is a rather convincing picture of me and Michael. Oh, shit. I'm gonna be in trouble…


	5. Chapter Five

**A/N: Hey guys, long time no update huh? I have been a bit busy with school, trying to decide what courses to take over the summer and what not. Anyway, here is the next installment in the dramatic saga of Princess Mia's glamorous life. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please review, I'm open to any and all compliments and constructive criticism!**

**Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns all characters you recognize, and I own the ones you don't.**

_G&T, still in trouble…_

I have just been informed by Principal Gupta that my dad and Grandmere are on the way to pick me up and I have to say, not a moment too soon. Seriously, if I have to hear one more comment about my picture in the paper, I am going to sic Lars on all of them. Tina and Lilly have been rather supportive of me in my time of need though. Lilly was a little disgusted about what the paper implied, but they have both been wonderful. I asked them to help me plan my party. My real party, not the crap that I'll be forced to attend and see aired on national television.

I hope that Michael hasn't seen it; actually I hope that the entire student body at Columbia hasn't seen it. I'll have to call him when I get home, that is, if I am even going home. I don't know what Grandmere is thinking and frankly, I don't think I want to. If she had her way, I would be on the first plane out of the city, headed for Genovia and boarding school.

I...

_The limo, on the way to the Plaza_

I was interrupted earlier by the intercom calling me to the office. When I got there, Dad was pacing in the front hallway and Grandmere was trying to soothe a trembling Rommel who, apparently, got spooked by Principal Gupta. When I was spotted, Grandmere's eyes narrowed into little slits so tiny, the only thing visible was her eyeliner tattoo. It was too late to duck into a bathroom, so I took a deep breath and strode over to my Dad.

"Mia, what…" he began.

"Amelia, what on earth were you thinking?" Grandmere nearly shouted.

I saw Principal Gupta watching this exchange with obvious interest. Dad must have noticed also, because he said, "Mother, I believe this can wait until we are in the car."

She looked at Principal Gupta and sniffed, "Yes, Philippe, you are right. Come Amelia."

I turned to Lars and mouthed, "Help me!"

He hid his grin behind a cough and we started off towards the limousine. Lars got into the front seat with Hans and my dad held the door open for me and Grandmere.

As soon as I sat down, I tried to look preoccupied, getting my journal out of my bag, but Grandmere saw right through it.

"Amelia, do you mind telling me why you happened to be on the front page of the Daily Enquirer?" She glared at me, waiting for my reply.

I fidgeted in the seat, "Um, lack of more interesting stories?"

This response earned a stern look from my dad.

"This is nothing to joke about. The people of Genovia are waking up this morning and do you know what they are going to find on the front page of _Journal De Célébrité_? I'll tell you what they will see, they will see their only Princess and heir to the throne of Genovia caught on film. Do you know what this picture implies?"

"Mother, let me handle this." Dad interrupted. "Mia, this could be bad for your image you know. You will stay at the Plaza for a while, at least until this whole thing blows over. I've already talked to your mother about it and she agrees."

"But Dad, this whole thing will be over by tomorrow! I mean, surely something more interesting will happen. Ooh, you know, the Olsen twins are returning to the City for the summer, they're much more interesting than me."

Dad shook his head and said, "Mia, you are staying at the hotel and I don't want to hear another word about it. Besides, your grandmother thinks it would be best if the television crews filmed footage of you at the Plaza."

In all of the hysteria over my supposed "tryst", I had forgotten all about being on My Super Sweet Sixteen. I remained silent for the rest of the trip. At least they didn't try to take Michael away from me.


	6. Chapter Six

**A/N: Yay! I made an A on my second big English paper, I am so happy that I am updating again! So, I hope you enjoy this, and I hope that you take the time to review, because I greatly appreciate everyone who has reviewed so far!**

**Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns The Princess Diaries, lucky girl. I own all the characters that you don't recognize from her books**

_About 9:00 p.m., Plaza Hotel suite_

I have had it up to here with the film crew, Paulette in particular. After seeing my picture in the tabloid this morning, I really wasn't up to filming anything for the show. When I got to my room, which just happened to be very close to Grandmere's suite, I tossed my books on the floor next to the desk and flopped down on the bed. I closed my eyes to relax a little bit, and my cell phone rang.

Groaning slightly, I pulled my body off the bed and dug into my backpack for my phone. Michael's number flashed across the screen, and dread filled the pit of my stomach. Crossing my fingers he didn't see our picture on the newsstand, I pressed talk.

"Hello?"

"Mia? What's going on? Did you see him take our picture?"

I was assaulted by the accusatory tone of his questions before I even had time to explain myself.

"Michael, I know it looks bad, but…"

"Mia, when I woke up this morning, someone had taped these pictures all over the front of my door. When I went to my first class, the professor took me aside and asked me if I would like to lay low from his class for a few weeks. Then when I went back to my dorm, I had paparazzi following me."

I groaned, it was one thing for the media to follow my every move, but quite another altogether for them to involve my boyfriend.

"Michael, I don't know how that happened, he must have followed you to the loft."

"Was this your grandmother's idea? To garner publicity for your show?"

I pondered this thought. I can't believe I didn't think of it, I mean, she has done it before.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked quietly.

He paused, and I heard his fist hit the desk.

"No, I'm not mad at you. You didn't ask for this to happen. I just can't believe the lengths some people will go to get dirt on someone."

A smile crept back on my face. Relief flooded through my body, and I relaxed a little. My fist had been clenched tightly closed and small crescents remained imprinted in my palm.

"Well, Grandmere and Dad have relocated me to the Plaza for a while."

"I know, your mom told me when I called your house."

"Will I get to see you tomorrow after school?"

He paused for a moment.

"I don't know if I will have time."

My smile fell off my face and my fist clenched closed as I tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill.

"Oh, okay."

"Mia, I didn't mean it like that," he said tenderly, "I still have to get some things together for your birthday."

Oh, yeah, my birthday is coming up isn't it?

"Any hints you care to toss my way?"

"Absolutely not. Well, I've got to go, I have an English paper due in the morning. Sleep tight, I love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
